


Strike True

by Starkissed1



Series: No Room for Perfection [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Thor (2011), Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 20:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkissed1/pseuds/Starkissed1
Summary: We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are. -Anais NinIt is not irony that truth is one of the liesmith’s tools. All of the best fictions are born of something real. Yet when one isbetrayeddeceived by love, truth--in its many fractured forms--truth is a double-edged sword.





	Strike True

Three days had passed.

Three days since Loki had spoken with him. 

Three days of Loki disappearing from across the room the moment Thor stepped in his direction.

Three days ago when Loki left the training ring, Thor knew it was overreaction. His dramatic sibling was due such an event. It was not until that evening when Thor stood outside his brother’s door, entreating entry, he began to worry. Though he had seen Loki go inside, there was no response. Thor knocked and received no answer. Thor asked Loki to allow him in, again to no reply. Thor waited, imagining he could hear Loki breathing on the other side. “Please,” he said, “I just want to talk.” The soft echoes of movement elsewhere along the stone corridor mocked him. Thor did not sleep that night.

As if marking the hours of estrangement, sleep remained beyond his grasp. Any attempt to get near his brother had failed. Loki was known for his idiosyncrasies. As a result, few others thought it strange when Loki excused himself from a room, abandoned a project, or turned around without a word. Thor realized their mother had noticed when she patted his shoulder after another of Loki’s vanishing acts. That was the second day.

Today, he caught Loki watching him. The carefully composed mask could not hide the accusation burning in that glare. When he stepped forward, Loki’s command was in his head, _Stop._

The order was direct, permitting no argument. Thor hesitated. _Walk away Thor._

Thor shook his head and blinked, Loki was no longer there. Orders, perhaps, were better than avoidance. Though, something was missing from his conviction, the tone was somehow feigned. It tasted wrong. 

Everything was wrong.

**************

Thor sat on a balcony open to the stars. He held no designs on sleep tonight either. The afternoon’s interaction played repeatedly in his mind. Loki was angry, yes, but something else pulled at the edges. The moment was unraveling in his thoughts--lack of sleep, frustration and, truth be told, he missed his brother. His sharp gaze, his dry humor, his touch--no, this was not just dick talk--and yes, their closeness had become more than that. 

As children, they had been inseparable, yet somewhere along the way, other things had become more important. A kiss, a kiss had changed that poor story. Sure, it was the thrill of challenge, initially. And, Norns, what a series of games that was. No one had ever matched his desire like Loki did. Their lust had brought them together in those moments easily. Each taking what the other had to give. What is more, beyond these fevered meetings, they actually spent time together, as friends--as brothers--again.

That was what he missed most. That was why those blue-green eyes boring into him today could not be dismissed. Loki’s eyes changed color with his moods. Today’s color was not the bright emerald of mischievousness or passion. Rather they reminded Thor of a gathering storm, filled with the unpredictability of anger and hurt. Yes, Loki demanded to be left alone, but Thor could not acquiesce. He just needed Loki to hear him out.

**************

Midnight finds golden shoulders pressed against the locked door to his brother’s room. Loki did not respond to his knocks nor his words. Thor had begged, pleaded. He refrained from yelling. Though he had been seen, he did not relish additional attention. Nor was Loki likely to respond to demands. He called for his brother’s notice with the spell that allowed them to talk to each other across distances. Loki still did not answer. Thor indicated he would wait.

Thor supposes he looks a sight: sitting on the stone with his back pressed to the door, elbows resting on his knees in front of him, bare toes pointing toward the middle of the hall. He counts the bricks in the floor. Repeatedly. He thinks about what he wants to say and rehearses it in his mind. Repeatedly. Then, he counts the bricks again. 

He had been listening to the steadily increasing sounds of the castle and knew dawn was arriving. Thor circles his shoulders and rolls his head. When he leans against the door again, he begins to fall and has to catch a hand to the frame. The door swings free.

Loki stands in the center of the room, glaring. He is absolutely regal in his favorite green and gold tunic over dark trousers. His hair shines and there is a light flush to his pale skin. He is obviously ready to start the new day and Thor is in his way. His arms cross his chest, his only concession to motion is the eyebrow that raises in question. 

Thor pushes up from the frame, slightly unsteady on his feet. This is not what he expected. Honestly, he did not know what he expected. Unable to answer his own question, he moves into the room and starts, “Loki, let me...” He stops talking as the door slams behind him. Thor stills, though his eyes widen. 

“There is an extremely limited list of what I will ‘let you’ do right now.” Loki steps forward. Thor is frozen in place. He can move neither limb nor tongue. Loki had trapped him here in the entryway. “I thought I made it very clear,” Loki approaches, boot heels clicking on the stone. Each long-legged step carrying him closer to the statue that is his brother. “I. Want. To be. Left. Alone.” Each word is emphasized by a sure step that cracks loudly in the hushed room.

Thor tries to swallow when Loki circles behind him, yet even that comfort is denied him. “When I loose your tongue, you may tell me why you ignored my explicit wishes and sat outside my door all night interrupting my rest.” Loki has come full circle and now stands before him. 

Thor regards his planned statements and opts for simple, he does not know how long Loki will permit him to talk. His tongue wets his lips to encourage their movement, “I came to apologize.”

Loki does not move. He continues staring down his brother, standing still as if he were the statue. “What are you apologizing for?” His hard expression does not change, there is no indication that an apology is expected nor desired.

Thor examines the question to determine how to answer, but Loki gave no guidance. There was no hint of wishfulness, no pointed direction to follow. Thor swallows, “I’m sorry I held you down in the ring the other day and refused to let you up.” He meets his brother’s gaze, but eventually looks away from the unceasing demand. “Loki, I miss…” His tongue stills and his eyes snap back to his brother, whose already sharp features, tighten further. 

“That is what you think has been going on?” Thor cannot respond, there is no leeway in his brother’s spell work. “You think I would be this upset because you beat me again? Norns, Thor, even I did not imagine you were this thick.” Loki paces away. “You are a magnificent fighter. Your mastery of multiple styles, your ease of use with any weapon, and not to mention your sheer physical power are breathtaking. I cannot match you in these areas. If I am not permitted all my strengths, you will almost always win. You need to step out of your own head and stop projecting your motivations onto others. To you, losing to your brother may be the worst humiliation,” Loki turns around swiftly. “We have different ideas of worst,” Loki’s palm connects none too gently with Thor’s forehead.

**********************  
Thor is in the training ring, holding two swords. This is not his preferred fighting style, but all Asgardian warriors train with a variety of weaponry. He could hear the crowd and recognized many friends among the voices. “Come on Thor!” “No tricks this time!” “Yes, swords!” “Yeah! How about a fair fight?” 

Thor grins and turns to see his sparring partner. He stares at himself across the ring. Opponent-Thor stands triumphant: dual swords raised high, encouraging the cheers, yelling back his own. Thor’s body moves, apparently beyond his control, he feels light as a basic defensive stance is taken. He glances down and realizes this is Loki’s body.

Opponent-Thor walks across the ring, both arms spread wide, a sword in each hand and shrugs his shoulders. “What do you think, brother? Give them what they want? A fair fight with no magic this time?”

Thor-who-is-Loki nods, parrying the immediate slash from opponent-Thor’s opening swing. Thor now knows when he is. This was their fight three days ago. From this strange perspective, he observes. There are some bits of then-Loki’s thoughts that bleed through to him. He catches when Loki thinks him a lumbering oaf and ducks under opponent-Thor’s swing. Loki’s lithe and easy style has more thought and planning behind it than Thor had realized. He winces as Thor-who-is-Loki’s booted sole connects with the opponent’s ankle, recalling the bruise that he wore that day. The end of this match is nearing. 

There was a shift. Thor-who-is-Loki slides on the sand. Their opponent blocks the swing intended to compensate for the momentary off-balance pull and exaggerates the push. Thor-who-is-Loki hits the ground face-down, pushing to stand. There is a sword on his neck and a knee in his back. He stops pushing. Opponent-Thor shifts and leans in close, Loki’s hips now pinned by Thor’s knees on either side. Thor had forgotten the whisper that comes, lips close to his ear. “Yield, brother. Yield, for you are mine.”

Thor now recalls the intended innuendo. Thor-who-is-Loki freezes. There is no breath, no movement. The thoughts of then-Loki hit him at full strength. It is overwhelming: there is shock, there is indignation, there is pain. His heart is filled to bursting. Thor misses the transformation, but he remembers watching Loki walking away from the ring. He used magic to break the hold, negating their terms. He cheated. Thor now knows Loki did so fighting back tears.

***************  
Thor blinks and is once again in Loki’s receiving room. The hand lifts from Thor’s sweaty brow. He tries to speak and is unable. Loki turns away. Thor blinks again as two images are superimposed before his eyes: the proud, regal back of the brother who met him this morning and one who is all folded in on himself, wearing what seems to be yesterday’s clothes. That fraction of a second passes and only the imperious counterpart remains. 

Loki’s voice is barely audible, still facing away, “You have no idea what it means to be the Asgardian Prince who does not meet the gold standard. The one who falls short at every appraisal.” Thor tries to speak over Loki’s quiet words. “There will be no interruptions brother. This time, you will listen.” Thor hears the deep breath drawn, but Loki neglects to cause the image’s back ribs to spread. Thor looks for the reality under the illusion, but he cannot pierce it. 

Softly, his brother continues, “In the shadows and even in the bold light of day, I am accused, laughed at, belittled,” Loki turns to face him. The haughty gaze denies Thor’s unspoken arguments. “Don’t get petulant with me. You want to refute that. You think to tell me, ‘not all Aesir,’ ‘not always,’ ‘not all the time.’ No, Thor. You don’t get to claim that I speak in absolutes.” Loki pauses, he lifts his arms as if conducting a symphony. The room is filled with the whispers of a crowd.

> _Seidrcraft is a women’s art. What does he think he’s doing? Witch. He spews lies. Loki cursed my crops again. Has he no shame? Cheater. He’s lucky Thor will be king. We couldn’t have his kind on the throne. What? Ergi. Look at him, he might as well be a princess. What do you suppose his stitching looks like? I wouldn’t care if those pretty lips were wrapped around my cock. My wine turned sour when he passed. I don’t trust him. Thor shouldn’t trust him. Liar. Cheater. Fraud. Ergi._  
> 

There was more. Thor recognizes of the voices in the onslaught, even his own. He is most surprised to hear Loki’s voice harsh in the mix. Thor did not want to think on how long his brother had been accumulating this cacophony. The whispers become a roar. Thor can no longer make out individuals, but the insults continue to ring in his ears. He squeezes his eyes shut. Deafened, it seems to be some time until Thor identifies silence. There are tears on his cheeks when he next looks to his brother.

“So you see, Thor. I comprehend ‘not always’ and still, I know ‘often enough.’ And yes, I have heard others speak on my behalf, even you.” Loki reaches out to wipe a tear from Thor’s cheek. He permits the drop to roll over his finger leaving a glittering trail. He brings it to his lips, the last diamond bit of moisture melts into the kiss.

“Yet, like all rumors, there is power where they are rooted in truth. According to all the histories, there has not been a seidmann of my power amongst the Aesir in millennia--barring one, but apparently the All Father is exempt from stereotypes. And though we were little when we last played as brother and sister,” a shimmer runs over Loki’s form. There stands a beautiful, raven-haired woman. Thor recognizes her, he has seen her on the grounds previously. Now, he cannot imagine how he didn’t know her for his brother. “I suppose, I could have been a princess.” Loki winks and returns to his usual form. 

“And proudly I will claim my throne as the Trickster, as the silver-tongued prince of Asgard.” His smile hardens. He aims that sharpening glare at Thor, who cannot turn away, who cannot deny what follows. “And you, brother. You know my predilections.” His grin is menacing, “You know I am ergi.” Two fingers of his right hand press into the top of Thor’s breast bone. Those fingers drag at the open collar of his shirt as his brother circles behind him. 

“You know,” the conspiratorial whisper next to his ear implies shared knowledge, “just how to fill my dark desires.” Loki has brushed Thor’s hair away, lips press a kiss to the side of his neck. “I gave you everything, Thor.” Long fingers caress up and over the base of his skull. “I gave my control over to you.” Thor can taste the bitterness that drowns that phrase. With a hard push to his head, he is falling. The final comment is almost lost, “I thrilled to be yours.”

Thor stumbles to his hands and knees and before he can stand, the spell takes hold once more. Loki walks around this awkward pile of his brother, grabbing his hair. Pulled to seated on his heels, he is posed kneeling. Hands fall to his sides. 

Loki looks down on him. “You do not get to parade me in public; to show a me a fool for all to see; to put me on display for your friends or the court. I am not your ergi plaything or theirs, to enjoy and then mock en masse.”

Loki turns and collapses into a chair, facing away from Thor. “Leave me.”

This time when Thor attempts to move, he is successful. He stands. “Loki.” Silence is once more his companion. “Brother,” he takes a step forward. Loki whips around finding his feet. Thor has to twist out of the path of a thrown dagger. 

“I won’t aim to miss next time.” Loki holds a sharpened blade in each hand. He points one at the door, “Get out.”

Thor shakes his head and does not move. This would not be the first time he felt Loki’s steel. “No.”

Loki’s eyes tighten. Thor keeps his place as the edge cuts through his sleeve and slides along his bicep. The knife clatters behind him. He can feel the blood well and begin to drip down his arm, though slowly. Loki’s aim is perfect. Thor does not even glance to the injury. “Brother, you insist that I leave. I would not wish for you to be alone right now.”

“And why do the wishes of Thor Odinson matter in this moment?” Two daggers are again pointed in his direction.

“Because part of you doesn’t wish to be alone either.” Loki pauses, possibly to weigh the point, possibly to pick out a new target. 

Thor drops to his knees, revisiting where Loki had left him only minutes earlier. His brother raises an eyebrow, his daggers return to their hiding place. His left hand slides up his face and pulls through his dark hair. Loki gives a small laugh. It is a bit hollow, too wooden. But even a miserable approximation of laughter is better than another day of silence and accusations. 

“I still owe you an apology.”

“And this is how you do it?” Loki’s now muffled boots bring him slowly closer to Thor, considering. He clasps his hands behind his back, withholding his touch. “You think to kneel before me like a petitioner? This is not your style, Thor.”

Golden cheeks upturned, his palms resting on his knees, Thor wears half a smile. “Perhaps not, though right now it seems fitting. I apologize that my words hit you as public humiliation. I apologize that you have spent three days drowning in these echos. I did not intend to poison that which we now have.” 

Loki steps in closer, long fingers comb through blonde locks. Thor leans to his brother, settling his cheek to smooth fabric. He closes his eyes and breathes in the closeness, this is real. Illusions, whispers and chaos cannot dare to taint this. This is truth, together. 

**Author's Note:**

> The series tag is just to keep my little world together. The stories are pieces of this relationship. They are not in timeline order and can be read independently. As always, our silver-tongued prince is responsible for any further incursions in his realm.


End file.
